


Love, Lies, Loss

by lostinmymindforever



Series: Was Lost, Now Found [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abduction, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, F/M, Obsession, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinmymindforever/pseuds/lostinmymindforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a series of tragedies in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Lies, Loss

John knew the minute he laid eyes on her that he was going to end up marrying Mary. There had been something about her, something that drew him like a moth to a flame. He was head over heels in love with her at first glance.

Mary was sweet and kind and made him laugh. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and even though she barely spoke about her past and her family John loved her completely.

They had the perfect life, a little boy and a newborn son.

And then everything changed.

~

Mary had tried not to fall for John, had tried to ignore the way the beta made her feel. She knew it was stupid to get involved with him, a human, but John won her heart, and soon after they met she said yes to marrying him.

When she contacted her pack and told them what was going on there had been angry words and Mary thought that would be the last time she would ever see them again.

Mary had worried when she had gotten pregnant with their eldest, because she knew without a doubt that if the boy was born omega she wouldn't be able to hide the truth of what she was from her beloved husband. 

Mary knew that things worked differently with humans. She knew that there was no telltale sign between alphas and betas and omegas until puberty. But werewolves were different. With a werewolf it would be obvious, especially with an omega werewolf. 

But when Dean was born, much to Mary's delight and thankfulness, she could tell the boy wasn't an omega, but a secondary alpha. Where humans had three male genders, alpha, beta, and omega, werewolves had four, alpha, secondary alpha, beta, and omega. Though Mary worried that John would notice something, he never did, and since Mary was the only werewolf Dean came in contact with and she never shifted, Dean wouldn't end up shifting.

And then Mary got pregnant once more, and she hoped and prayed that like Dean this child wouldn't give her away. But when she gave birth to Sammy, much to her inner dread, the boy was an omega. Her doctor was shocked, but kept his mouth shut. And while Mary shouldn't be, she was thankful that John had been stuck at work when she delivered.

If John thought it was odd that Mary never allowed him to change Sammy’s diapers or give him baths, he never said anything. And Mary, while hating having to lie and keep secrets from her husband, thanked him for his silence.

~

Dean remembered back when things were normal, back before everything fell apart. He remembered having two loving parents and a newborn baby brother. He remembered being so happy, and planning on teaching Sammy so many things.

But everything changed when he was 4 and a half.

They had gone on a family camping trip, Mom, Dad, baby Sammy and Dean. And Dad had taken Dean with him to the lake not far from their campsite to teach him to fish. He remembers clearly getting hugs and kisses from his mother, and giving baby Sammy a kiss on the forehead before leaving with Dad. He remembers heading back to their campsite, excited to tell his mom about the fish he had caught. He remembers finding their tent ripped to shreds, footprints, both wolf and human, surrounding the ruins. He remembers splashes of blood, and little Sammy’s blanket tossed into the bushes as if trash.

That was the last day he saw his father smile. After his mother and baby brother were taken from them, his dad changed. He grew cold and bitter, and spent all of his time trying to hunt down the pack, because they had figured out very early on it had been werewolves who had attacked their campsite, that had taken Mary and Sammy from them.

~

When the werewolves came Mary had fought hard, but she hadn't been able to fight them all off, and when one of them had grabbed Sammy, threatening to kill the less than two month old she had stopped fighting, going with them. She knew that John would find the wreck of their campsite and knew that he would assume she was dead, but she made a promise to herself to try and find a way back to him, back to her family.

The pack that had kidnapped her and Sammy was a rival pack to her own. She knew the only reason they had even taken interest in her was because of who she was, only daughter to the pack alpha. It was six months before she and Sammy were rescued, six months of pain and torture, six months in which she had been told over and over again that she was nothing more than a pawn and a hole to breed with.

By the time they were rescued Mary was a shell of her former self. And when her father told her that both John and Dean had been killed, she'd believed him. She lived out the rest of her life believing that lie.

Mary was never the same after her months of captivity, and before Sammy’s second birthday she had wasted away to practically nothing, refusing to eat, scarred and broken. The last any of them saw of her was the day before Sammy’s second birthday, when she came to her father's den, wrapped her arms around her son and kissed him with tears in her eyes. She made her father promise to raise Sammy right, to take care of him, and to allow him to chose his own path.

No one was quite sure where Mary went after she left the pack grounds, but she was never seen again, and her body was never found. And her father raised Sammy to be his heir, making the boy grow up strong and proud, plotting to one day use him to bond his pack with another.

Sammy was an omega after all, it was his duty to serve his pack.

~

John was obsessed. That was the only word Dean knew to describe his father. Ever since his mother and baby brother were taken from them, John had spent all his time working to get revenge. While Dean was pretty sure they were both dead, he still held out a bit of hope, as neither of their bodies were ever found.

But by the time Dean was 13 he knew that any chance of finding them was slim to non-existent. He should have had a family, what he had was a shell of a father, hell bent on revenge and a hole in his heart where his mother and baby brother should be.

When his father woke him and made him pack up his belongings Dean had no clue that soon he'd be truly on his own. All his father would say was that he had found a lead, one that would allow him to finally make the “bastards” pay.

Dean had heard that often enough, each time leading to another dead end and a raging John Winchester. But this time was different, he had a pack name, one that for some reason tickled at Dean's memories. 

Campbell Pack.

He wasn't sure where he had heard that name before, or why it was so familiar, but it was.

Like usual as soon as they got where they were going Dean was left alone in a shitty motel while John left to go “hunt”. He was left money for food, but ordered not to leave the room. 

But this time was different. As soon as the sun went down Dean started feeling oddly. His skin felt too tight and he began pacing the room. By midnight he felt as if his body was on fire, so he opened the door, stepping outside to let the cool air wash over him.

He woke up under a tree, naked and dirty, his mind filled with fuzzy memories of running, chasing someone or something through the woods. He made his way back to the motel, thanking whatever god was listening that the room was still unlocked. Dean found his clothes in a pile next to the door.

He showered, washing the dirt and grime and to his dismay traces of blood off of his body, but when he searched for injuries he found none. He'd barely dried off when he heard a scratching at the door to his room, and he approached warily.

Outside was a wolf, not fully grown, but obviously a wolf none the less. Dean didn't know what to do, didn't know why the animal was there, but there was something soothing and familiar about the animal. He opened the door and the wolf came inside, watching him closely.

In his mind he heard, “Your first shift. You poor, poor child, how could your parents keep you from your kind?” The voice was kind, young sounding, as if the speaker was a boy.

Dean backed away from the werewolf, what he was certain it was. Tears ran down his face and he shook his head in denial. “No, I didn't shift, I couldn't have shifted. My parents are human.”

The werewolf looked at him, and he swore had it been in human form it would have been look at him sadly. “But you shifted. We ran together last night, hunted rabbits together. You're pack, I can smell it.”

Dean cried out, shaking his head almost violently. “I'm not a werewolf. I can't be, I’m not one. You have me mistaken.”

The werewolf shifted into it's human form, a small boy, younger than Dean himself. He walked slowly towards Dean, holding his hand out as if to say he was no harm. “We played together. I thought... no one really plays with me... I thought I had made a friend,” his voice was near breaking at the end, and Dean could see a few tears fall down the boy's face.

“I'm sorry, but you're mistaken. I’m human. My dad is human, my mom was human.”

The boy bit his lip, nodding his head slowly. He was wearing a necklace, one he pulled over his head and handed towards Dean. “Maybe one of them is hiding what they are, maybe you were just never told. I don't know, but I do know that you are a werewolf, that you are pack. Take this, whenever you chose to believe what you are, it will help you find me.”

After Dean took the necklace from the boy's hand he turned, walking towards the door. “Wait. If I am a werewolf, why didn't I shift before, why now?”

The boy turned to face Dean, tilting his head to the side and Dean looked into his eyes, hazel eyes that reminded him so much of his dead baby brother, “If you were never near a shifted wolf before of your pack you wouldn't have shifted. But since you did... Find me when you are ready to believe the truth, my pack, our pack will accept you.”

“Wait. Before you go, at least tell me your name,” Dean asked, watching the young werewolf as he approached the doorway.

He looked over his shoulder at Dean, giving a small little smile, “My name is Sammy.”

With that the boy shifted, running out of the motel room and back towards the woods he had come from. Dean stood in the doorway in shock, eyes wide when he realized just who he had been talking to. His brother wasn't dead, that was one thing Dean was sure of. He was certain that the boy, the young werewolf who he had just spoken to was the baby brother he had lost all those years before.

It was later that same night when John returned, and Dean couldn't tell him what had happened, or what he had realized. The smell of smoke and death clung to his father's body, and all Dean could do was pray that Sammy had survived whatever their father had done.

They left almost as soon as John got back, and Dean found himself hating the man who had raised him. He could barely stand the sight of him, the smug satisfied grin on his face, or the way he kept muttering that those “mutts” had gotten what they deserved.

They drove all through the night, and when his father left the next day to go celebrate his “victory” Dean wanted to be sick. He heard the cop cars and watched as his father was dragged out of the bar across the street, shouting wildly that he was glad he had done what he had, that they had deserved it for destroying his family.

Dean knew he'd never see his father again, that the human authorities would turn John over to Pack Council and allow them to punish him for his crimes. He packed his things, taking them out to the car. He snuck into the main office of the motel, placing the keys on the desk before heading out to the Impala. 

Dean knew he shouldn't do what he did next, but he had no other choice. He had to find out if the boy was alive, if Sammy had survived his father's attack. He drove away from the motel, thankful that his father had taught him to drive and began heading back in the direction they had come from. 

About a half hour before he got back there the car died, and Dean grabbed what he could carry, leaving the car at the side of the road and began to walk. It took days to find the ruins of the pack grounds and the scent of death turned his stomach.

But there was one scent that drew his attention, Sammy's scent mixed with fear and something else, moving away from the charred remains. He moved as fast as he could, trying to find where Sammy had went, as it was obvious that the boy had survived. He only prayed that when he finally found Sammy he would be okay.


End file.
